Chapter Four #2
Her breath hitched, and it took her a moment to gather her thoughts enough to reply.
“That’s another reason why I work holidays. It keeps me busy, and also makes it possible for other workers to be with their relatives.”
Did he know their legs were brushing? The heat of him breathed through denim, sending a tingle of awareness through her. This was much easier without his “help.”
“You’re welcome to join us. I don’t expect you to work on Christmas Day. We’re not helpless. Everyone will have their dish to make, and we’re expected to pick up after ourselves. You can be a part of the festivities. What’s your signature Christmas dish?”
What he described sounded...perfect. Normal. And not hers. “I don’t want to be your pity case.”
His gaze shifted off the decorations and slammed into hers, the air crackling between them. Instrumental music filled the silence, the room small and intimate, the world so very far away right now.
“Trust me, when I look at you—” his eyes flamed with a molten warmth “—pity is the last thing on my mind.”
That heat flowed through her as she searched for words other than how much she wanted him. “Marshall—”
He held up a hand, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have said that. I think the holiday’s messing with my head. Christmases aren’t the same these days.”
“Change is inevitable. You’re all adults now, moving forward with your own lives.”
“It’s more than that. My mother and one of my sisters died in a plane crash. Holidays tend to bring reminders.”
And just that fast, the desire in her cooled with the mention of why she’d come here in the first place, to find peace over her father’s suicide.
Except she wasn’t the only one who’d been hurt.
Would knowing about her father make things worse for them?
Was her search for peace a risk to them if they discovered her reason for being here?
She would have to sift through all of that later. Right now, she could see only the man in front of her, a man in pain.
Touching him for comfort didn’t seem wise for either of them, so she opted for silence, encouraging him to keep talking while she listened.
Having a person to unload on was a gift she didn’t take for granted.
The loneliness after her father’s suicide had been deafening.
Her father hadn’t been able to bear the aftermath of the plane crash that had taken the lives of Marshall’s mother and sister.
How had Marshall been able to bear those losses?
Marshall continued, setting down the kayak ornament and picking up a mare-and-foal decoration made from jade. His fingers wrapped around it, white-knuckled. “Not too long after they passed, my sister Naomi got cancer. Our focus turned to surviving.”
This room full of holiday memories suddenly felt so very sad and overflowing with pain. While Naomi had been struggling for her life, Tally’s father had slid deeper into drinking until finally...she’d lost him for good.
Her voice rasped with all the unspoken hurt. “I’m sorry for all your family’s been through.”
“Naomi and Breanna were twins, so near to my age, sometimes people thought I was the twin, or that we were triplets.”
“You had a close relationship.” She’d read so much about his family, but there were nuances the news articles didn’t cover.
“Yes, we all were, actually.”
“Were close?”
“Well, we all stayed in the area, but things were never the same.” He put back the ornament and swiped a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean for this to become about me. It’s Christmas. We’re here. There’s a party to throw to kick off the family’s charity foundation. That’s what matters.”
She thought about steering him back to talk of his relatives in the hopes of learning something about the accident that could give her the answers, the closure, she sought, but his face was closed off. Shielding grief.
And if she pushed too hard, he could well shut down to her permanently.
Tally searched for the right way to strike the lighter tone he seemed to seek. “Even though that party means you have to be a part of the bachelor auction?”
“Even though.” He cricked his neck from side to side and opened another bin of decorations. “What about your family Christmas traditions?”
The last thing she wanted was to discuss her family’s tense holidays, with her father drinking his way through the season, growing more morose by the ounce as he ruminated about the crash.
So she said simply, “My mother and I had a tradition where we picked out a fairy-tale ornament every year. I still have the mermaid one as a charm on my key chain.” Just thinking about her parents made her throat clog.
She needed to steer the conversation away from her past, fast. “You didn’t actually tell me about your Christmases growing up. You just talked about winter overall.”
“Isn’t Alaska in somewhat of a perpetual state of Christmas once the snow falls? It is home to the town of North Pole, Alaska.”
“I can see your big family making a trip there.” She leaned back against the shelves, unable to resist the lure of his deep voice.
“You guess well. We made a pilgrimage there every year. Dad said he would take us as long as there was one of us who believed in Santa Claus.”
“Your brother Aiden is quite a bit younger than you are, isn’t he?” She rushed to confess, “I read up a little on your family tree before taking the job. Just what could be found through Google, mind you. I only wanted to be prepared.”
That was better to admit than having scoured the internet for information on his family out of a sense of guilt over what her father caused because he’d had a few too many drinks on the job.
“You’re a professional, I can see that.” He crossed his hands over his chest. “And back to Aiden... He pretended to believe until he was ten. He did an excellent job fooling our father.”
“That’s really sweet.” She soaked in the light streaming through a high window, catching on the waves in his dark hair.
“Don’t underestimate my little brother. He was charging my sister Delaney money to keep up his pretense.”
“Why would she do that?”
He studied the moose ornament in his hand. “She said it made her feel closer to our sister and mother.”
“Traditions have a way of keeping our loved ones alive.” She thought of how much comfort she took from a simple ornament on her key chain. “I’m sorry you’ve lost so much.”
He angled closer, placing the ornament back in the storage bin. “As have you.”
If she breathed deeply, her chest would brush his, and that prospect made her tingle all over. She swallowed hard and forced words out. “Thank you.”
“I can see the loneliness in your eyes.” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.
“That’s not something many men would admit.” Was that breathy voice hers?
His hand fell away and he moved back, giving them both the boss/employee distance again. “Don’t give me too much credit for sensitivity. It comes from reading horses.”
He paused, his eyebrows pinching together before he lifted his cast arm. “Although maybe I should rethink my ability to read people given my rookie mistake with a horse.”
“I suspect it could happen to anyone. And as sorry as I am that you’ve been injured, I’m glad to have the chance at this job.”
“This job shouldn’t steal your whole Christmas season, though.” He angled closer. “You should join in our plans.”
“Um, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
“It’s an excellent idea. You deserve to have some fun.” He straightened. “As a matter of fact, why don’t you join us this Friday when we go see The Nutcracker? We can grab dinner beforehand. It’ll be a low-key way for you to meet the family in person before they all start piling in.”
She couldn’t help but be curious to learn more about them, to see how closely they resembled what she’d discovered reading up on them. What was real and what was paparazzi fodder?
“That’s very generous of you to offer.”
“Consider it my Christmas gift to a great employee.”
“I’ve only just started.”
“And look at how much you’ve already impressed me.” He eased to his feet and clasped the doorknob. “I’ll see you at lunch. Don’t work too hard.”
Before she could answer, he left, closing the door behind him, leaving her alone with the holiday music and boxes full of Steele memories.
Had she really just agreed to go out with him? But it wasn’t a date. Just a boss offering his employee a ticket to a show.
So why was she already planning what she would wear?
Who had he been fooling that it didn’t mean anything inviting Tally to join in their family’s plans? Going out with her for dinner and the ballet on a Friday night felt exactly like what it was.
A date.
At intermission, Marshall’s family milled about, visiting with drinks in a private room reserved for major donors to the theater. Boughs of holly and pine hung from the dark wood banister in the dimly lit room.
At the large red-cloth-covered buffet table with a spiraling candelabra, Marshall opted for spring water. At what point would his family notice he’d stopped drinking anything with alcohol in it?
Beside him, Tally sipped her champagne. He wasn’t sure how he had made it through dinner without alerting his whole family that he had the hots for his cleaning lady.
Temporary cleaning lady, he reminded himself, as if that might somehow make the attraction more acceptable.
Not that his family had questioned his showing up with her.
But he knew there would be talk among them once the evening was over.
Tally slid her hand in his, the softness of her skin stirring him.
He shot her a curious glance, and she smiled, pulling him aside to show him a Christmas display in a window across the street.
She arched up on her toes, bringing their heads side by side as she described how she wanted to re-create the look at his place.
He should be paying attention to her words, but he was so focused on the soft sound of her voice, the feel of her skin.